


In Waking Sleep of Longing

by xXSaxonStrifehartXx



Series: Lupus Timeline [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dalish Courtship, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Gay Panic, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Original Character(s), Romantic Fluff, Sad, The Author Regrets Everything, possible OOC?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXSaxonStrifehartXx/pseuds/xXSaxonStrifehartXx
Summary: Fenrenan finally understands why his ancestors laid down into an eternal slumber.It wasn't for the next generation.It was for themselves.
Relationships: Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Solas
Series: Lupus Timeline [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759204
Kudos: 13





	In Waking Sleep of Longing

**Author's Note:**

> The title "in waking sleep of longing" is a reference to "in waking sleep of freedom" - a translated line in Leliana's song from Dragon Age Origins.

He should have seen the signs of what Solas was a long time ago. Before nights spent in quiet solace, before days quietly wiling away idle hours with lessons of history and the fade, and certainly prior to that one lasting kiss in the fade. But Fenrenan has been known to be rather pitifully naive before, as accused many a time by Dorian. And so when he approached, seeing Solas crouched above the orb that had caused them so much trouble since that day at the Conclave, his head cocked itself slightly from confusion; "Solas?"

"The orb..." That tone was so unusual of the oft composed elf. It sent chills up Lavellan's spine like a spider was winding it's spindly little legs all the way up to his spinal chord.

"...I know you wanted the orb saved...I'm so sorry..." And it was the truth, he did what he had to do. But in doing so it cost them this item that Solas spent more than one occasion lecturing Fenrenan upon.

"It is not..." There was a pause, and it was obvious that he was composing himself before proceeding; "Your fault..." 

Fenrenan watched, eyebrows sidling up to the center of his forehead, as the man he respected rose to his fullest height. The sound of the broken orb's fragments clinking against one another was all that could be heard over Solas's outfit rustling and the wind bustling past their ears like a mother's soft touch. It seemed so eerie, really. Their environment was bound with red lyrium and cold stone, the sun setting upon the finally whole sky. Yet the emotions in the air were laced with regret and something indescribable that, for his part, Lavellan couldn't quite place his finger upon. But one thing he knew for certain: nobody acted like this unless something was amiss.

"There's more...isn't there?" Fenrenan hesitated to ask the question, but he managed it out just as Solas turned his bald head, eyes dark with a secretive aura of mystery Fen had only seen glimpses of when they interacted in the fade.

"It was not supposed to happen this way..." Solas choked out, voice flooded with more emotion that Fenrenan recognized. He'd only heard him sound like this once before, back in the fade when he offered to take his vallaslin. Fenrenan had refused, at first, but after the explanation came to light the male knew (despite his anguish that the Dalish had once again misconstrued the past) that if he was to follow his values he refused to have the blood writing on his features (even if it estranged him from his people). "No matter what comes...I want you to know that what we had...was real-"

"I don't understand-" He quickly interrupted, mind reeling.

"I warned you before: it would be best for you to find yourself in Dorian's arms...I only hope that you would follow it now...while you still have time." The statement was said by a forlorn looking Solas, his eyes clouded with complexities that can't be laid out in words, nor described vocally. They are born from situations that fly by people's control, and only crop up between triangles best described in one of Varric's Sword and Sheild romance novels.

Fenrenan opened his mouth, ready to respond but perked instead to the sound of Cassandra's voice interrupting their moment. "Inquisitor, are you alive?" Expecting Solas to follow, the male walked towards the sound, half tempted to brush his hand through his own black locks from sheer frustration. By the time he descended the steps his eyes caught sight of his beloved friends and comrades, a grin flashing across his face for a split second at the sight of them. Realization took hold: they had done it.

It was over.

Just as the thought passed, a dual meaning came to take it's place as Solas appeared at the top of the steps. 

Lavellan would forever be haunted by the look he gave him, something twisted between longing and desperation. It would be forever Fenrenan's mistake that he would turn away just in time to lose sight of him. For when he looked back, thoroughly feeling congratulated by his fellow comrades: Sera, Cassandra, Leliana, Cullen, Dorian, Iron Bull, Rainer, Josephine, Varric, even Vivienne-

He was gone.

* * *

The crowd below seemed to bellow with excitement, reverberating their cries of sweet tears, loud howls of victory, and screams of relief to a point where even the great halls of Skyhold seemed ready to burst with their sound- and yet? The Inquisitor felt hollow as he looked down upon all the soldiers, mages, and various faction members he'd worked tirelessly to curate. All his hard work, all the scrapping and scratching his way through the miles of clouded hell seemed a distant memory. It almost felt separated from him, like this victory was taken by somebody else named Fenrenan Lavellan. It felt like he was a separate entity, looking in on a victory as if he was to be floating through the fade. His mark hurt slightly, but it's pain was so minuscule compared to where it had been during the time when the breach was there. With the breach's disappearance, it seemed that the pain had quelled somewhat.

"My lord. A moment." Leliana's voice caught his attention. It caused him to be brought back to where he was, situated upon the ledge between the second set of stairs that led into the main hall of Skyhold.

Like a mindless walking corpse he followed after his (former?) spymaster's steps towards the great, overhanging double doors. "My agents have found no trace of Solas." A pause, "He has simply vanished..." Fenrenan felt a blade twist in his heart, something that had been their ever since Solas left, but had been reactivated as soon as Leliana brought this fact to light. "...if he does not wish to be found...there is likely nothing we can do..." He could see the pity in Leliana's eyes and he hated it with every fiber of his being. Part of him wanted to lash out, but he cooled his rage; "...but I can keep looking..." She finished, eyes gentle.

At first multiple emotions ran through Lavellan, but finally it was despair that took hold. "I just don't understand...he didn't even say goodbye..."

"The two of you were close." Leliana observed the obvious, "Perhaps he had no choice." After a pause, the former bard did all but place a hand on the Inquisitor's shoulder in comfort; "He might return at any moment-"

It was a lie.

Fenrenan didn't even believe it himself, so in an attempt to delude the truth he blandly said; "Maybe..." Without much more circumstance, nor pomp, the male shuffled away.

It was probably expected of him to talk to his comrades, after-all, some of them were leaving right?

* * *

He didn't.

* * *

The morning sun was peaking over the horizon as the Inquisitor stared up at the ceiling. His features were completely flat, emotionless despite the hot tears that streaked his face. Leaving the hallway, looking back at his friends (and a few barely tolerated comrades), he had found himself feeling more alone than he ever had been. The only time he'd ever felt 'alone' per say, was when he was traveling to the Conclave way back before this all began. And even then he'd had the company of his wolf and the fine forest. Losing his wolf companion in the blast was a secret he'd kept to himself because he hated to talk about it. Now he'd lost another kind of companion, and that hurt far more than any blow to his heart.

"Is this your ire's action, Elgar'nan?" He wondered aloud, "I abandoned my clan for this Inquisition...is this my penance?" He was the first after all, was he to stay?

But the invocation of the all father only made him feel more alone.

"...A party is thrown and the Inquisitor chooses to spend it inside his room." A familiar voice greeted, and he sat upright to catch sight of Dorian rounding the corner of the stone bars separating his room from the great stairs that led below.

"And what is the pot doing here, anyways: asks kettle?" It was a self-defense mechanism, really. Humour was a way to hide his pain, but there was no wiping away the tears fast enough even if his voice was, in fact, rather level. Small rays of light peaked over the horizon as Fenrenan curled his legs close, small and lithe form shifting over the edge of the bed.

"They ran out of punch, again. I tell you, it's quite the epidemic."

"Just ask Bull, he has plenty of punch." Fenrenan's statement actually made Dorian laugh outright. However, after a few beats he sat down on the edge of the bed next to the elf and frowned, for it was at this point that Dorian noticed the streaks on Lavellan's face and puffy purple eyes. 

"...you weep."

"I-" He choked off an excuse; "Yes."

"You've always been a soft sort, Inquisitor-" Dorian said, turning his body now so that they faced one another; "But not so much that you fall down like a drunk-"

The anxious elf glared at his human counterpart and huffed, unable to come up with much of a comeback. "You're...a fall..." Dorian raised both eyebrows, leaving the Inquisitor breathless and unable to respond. The male instead looked back down at his knees and frowned, temporary reprieve from his mood gone. "...As much as I appreciate your company, Dorian, you belong downstairs. You and Bull should be dancing, getting drunk off bad wine, for gods's sakes-"

"You're not getting rid of me so easily, Inquisitor." Dorian placed a hand on the elf's cheek, pulling him so as to force him close. He cared greatly for Bull, and yes they had flirtatiously taken to one another pretty rapidly following the transition to Skyhold. But Dorian's heart lay with someone else, someone sitting right in front of him-

"But-"

"Is it Solas?" Dorian suddenly found a growl work it's way up in his throat. Solas and Dorian had long since been working to gain the Inquisitor's affections, fighting against one another since almost the beginning. Even the thought- an inkling- a possibility of Solas's victory made Dorian's blood boil. But that hot air quickly left the metaphorical balloon when Fenrenan looked up at him with the most heart-breaking eyes Dorian had ever seen.

He was small and disgustingly cute anyways- _by the maker_ \- why did he have to look so damn irresistible like this?

With those big green orbs staring at him like the whole world was ending and a set of thin, pouting lips Dorian swore he could end the world with that look alone. "You know they'll put that face on a statue someday, you'll regret it-" But with a groan Dorian couldn't help but gather the elf in his arms.

And Fenrenan sobbed, quiet and barely discernible from the flocks of circling Ravens roosting outdoors, the wind that pushed it's soft hands against the stone, or even the soft rise and fall of audio from those celebrating below; "Festis bei umo canavarum..." Dorian muttered, but he knew the Inquisitor needed him more than ever in that moment. A long few minutes pass before the Inquisitor finally pulled back and rubbed vigorously so as to rid his eyes of the offending tears.

"Ara seranna-ma..." The male sniffed; "I am supposed to be stronger than this."

"You're a mess." Dorian pointed out, grinning slightly; "But...Venhedis, you wouldn't be the same snarky and jumpy elf, if not for it." Thumbing his cheek the human stared at him longingly.

After a long silence the elf finally spoke, soft, but clear; "I-I'm not sure we should continue..."

"And why, pray tell, would you say that?" Dorian hummed, barely paying attention as he drew closer.

"...it's forbidden." But the elf couldn't help but look at Dorian's succulent lips, drawn himself like a moth to the flame.

"Oh my great, dearest Inquisitor, the best things are often the most...notorious." 

The elf pulled back, worrying his lip slightly. "Even so: he's...still there." 

Dorian gave pause finally, eyes rising from the male's form to greet green orbs, blown wide with internal debate. The rustling of cloth signaled Fenrenan's movements as he pulled himself back, looking forlorn. "Solas." Was the name finally spoken after a long pause, consideration over.

"Ar lathem Solas." The elf sighed, realizing that English translation was probably needed on this one. "...I loved him." Looking at an outstretched hand, the male frowned; "Esh'an ena lasa em revas..."

Dorian didn't need the translation to see how devastated the male was. And although his anger started to boil with anger at Solas's prescience and betrayal, Dorian tempered himself for Fenrenan's sake; "I ask only what you will give. I plan to leave, at any rate, why not just...enjoy it while it lasts?"

The elf held his breath, but after a long few beats swallowed roughly. It felt like he was trying to force something coarse like Sand or Cinnamon down his throat; "I worry...my people may never allow us to bond."

"Fasta vass, neither will mine, you well know that: but let them burn. I plan to shape my homeland, show the world there's still hope for it...that includes us, if it comes to it." Dorian was laying his heart on the line, which wasn't something he normally did and that caused something to well up in the elf's throat.

The elf was panicked, struggling for a response as tears threatened his green eyes again; "...lay with me?" Was finally what he forced out.

"...of course...Amatus."

When they situated down, laying in their small clothes while the sound of the morning overtook the air outside, the Inquisitor stretched his arm over the mage's chest. And it wasn't until a few minutes later, when Dorian and him fell into comfortable silence, that Fenrenan finally understood something. It was a revelation that came of it's own accord, knocking the wind out of him.

The keeper used to speak of their immortal ancestors. Elves were once a race comprised of beautiful, ethereal creatures who lived in harmony with nature and who never changed. They lived in cities of blue spires, enormous parks, and never aged. But after a long time, elders would voluntarily go into a comatose like state, sleeping forever. This state was known as uthenera. While their bodies would remain, their spirits passed through the veil and into the beyond. Occasionally they would come back, but most of the time their bodies deteriorated whilst their spirit was away. It was considered an honourable thing, the uthenera. Something that was done so that the younger generations of elves could take over.

But that wasn't entirely it, was it?

Life was hard.

He could imagine living forever, not with the pain it brings.

As he pushed his face into Dorian's chest and held back tears again, the male finally concluded that the Uthenera wasn't so much for the next generations benefit as it was weariness of all suffering the world crashes upon you. 

He wished he could sleep forever, too.

Peacefully drifting in the beyond like a playful wisp, forever unburdened of the world.

His people always strives for the immortality of their ancestors, and he had always worked tirelessly for the benefit of the Dalish. But now...he realized that immortality, the monte blanc of honour for his people, it was all a farce.

* * *

He felt bitter.

* * *

_Who wants to live forever, anyways?_

**Author's Note:**

> Fenrenan's name means 'wolf voice'.
> 
> In writing this ending I listened to "Who Wants to Live Forever?" by Queen, a perfect fit.  
> \------------------------------  
> Tevene translations:
> 
> Festis bei umo canavarum: "You will be the death of me."  
> Venhedis: A swear word  
> Fasta vass: A swear word  
> Amatus: A term of endearment.
> 
> Elven translations:
> 
> Ara seranna-ma: A way to excuse oneself.  
> Ar lathem Solas: "I loved Solas"  
> "Esh'an ena lasa em revas": (roughly) He gave me my freedom/He granted me my freedom.


End file.
